Hell Followed With Him
by capuciney
Summary: The heat and humidity of Africa penetrated her walls and slowly crept its way into every nerve and fibre. It left its mark on her and now, in England in the sweltering summer, she felt like she was back.
1. Chapter 1

The pale fabric walls of the tent. The muffled sound of women's voices, soothing and praying. Sweaty hands touching cold foreheads. Loose, greasy curls stuck to her neck. The heat and humidity of Africa penetrated her walls and slowly crept its way into every nerve and fibre. It left its mark on her and now, in England in the sweltering summer, she felt like she was back in Africa. It was clear now; she would walk out of the tent and be greeted with dry air and she would go home and wash sand out of her ears and lose the fight with the grit that made its home in her hair. Snapping out of her daydream she looked down at her hands to see them clean, sparkling even, and holding an equally clean metal tray.

She had only one more patient to see for now. A young man with a swollen ankle. He smiled brightly as she pulled back the curtain and moved to stand beside his bed.

"Grace Mueller?" a voice came from behind her. She quietly put down her tray before turning around and being faced with an American soldier.

"Captain." She acknowledged the bars on his collar. One of them had to acknowledge the others rank, it may has well have been her.

"Captain Sobel," He said, holding his hands behind his back and gazing around the tent as if its very presence annoyed him. Grace could sympathize with his distaste. The tent was beginning to annoy her as well.

"First Lieutenant Grace Mueller, if we're going to continue drawing out the introductions."

"Yes, well, Grace. I understand you were stationed in Africa for six months."

"Yes, Captain, that is correct. You're not about to send me back, are you?" She tested the waters, giving him a playful half-smile. He merely looked at her like she was a martian.

"Colonel Sink, of the 101st Airborne, has requested your presence."

"And what would Colonel Sink of the 101st Airborne want with me?"

"I believe you'll have to ask him yourself." Captain Sobel said curtly, before giving her brief instructions as to how to find his makeshift office and then promptly leaving.

"I can't believe Sobel let you talk to him like that," the young man on the bed piped up from behind her.

"You know him?" Grace asked, cocking her head.

"My CO."

"Well lucky you," Grace chuckled before moving to inspect his ankle.

"You're telling me. Ow, fuck!" The young man grumbled, before quickly muttering, "Sorry ma'am. Pardon my French."

"Nothing I haven't heard before. I'm just going to wrap up your ankle, it's just a minor sprain. I'm not going to make you stay here but I don't want you on your feet for two weeks." Grace instructed as she wrote on her clipboard. "Understand?"

"You got it, ma'am."

"Now, I know your type and I can tell you're lying to me. At least wait a week before you disobey my orders, okay?" Grace gave him a small smile before leaning over to tightly wrap up his ankle.

"The name's George Luz, by the way."

"I'm well aware, George. I am the one who has been handling your charts."

"My smooth line's not working on you at all? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Grace couldn't help but laugh at his big puppy eyes.

"Go try it on the little blonde at the front. I think the only reason she's here is to find herself a nice young soldier." Grace paused as she reached over to her tray to grab a gauze clip. "You didn't hear it from me, though."

"What about you? Tied that knot already?"

"I untied my knot years ago. Up and at 'em George. You're free to go." Grace shooed him out the tent flap, not wanting to hear any more questions.

"The blonde one, you say?" George asked. Grace just nodded and winked before closing the flap. Perhaps she needed to instill some more professionalism into her work. She chuckled to herself, imagining how the conversation between George and Faye would go. Knowing Faye, her face would go bright red and she would skitter away nervously.

She allowed herself a smile imagining George's face when he realizes Faye is really the kind of girl who signed up to do good in the world. Grace knew Faye had no interest in relationships just yet, she was still young and had an idea in her head that made her think that she would instantly know when she found her man. Love at first sight and all that hokey.

Sighing deeply, Grace cleaned up the cot that George has previously occupied. Sheets were torn off and landed in a bin, new sheets promptly replacing them and corners being expertly folded.

"I'm going to have to run away for a few moments, girls," Grace said as she walked by Faye and Edith. They sat at a worn wooden desk that acted as a cheap imitation of a reception area. Faye's cheeks still held a pinkish tint.

"That means I'm in charge," Edith smirked over at Faye.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Grace chirped before walking out into the sunshine.

Aldbourne was a picturesque community. Rolling fields filled the horizon while shambling brick buildings completed the foreground, surrounding small squares of grass and cobbled roads. The steady sound of her footsteps against stone would be the backing track to her time in England. If it weren't for the groups of men marching in their uniforms, or being mercilessly drilled in the fields, you would almost think there wasn't a war on. The birds chirped loudly, trying to drown out the sound of orders being barked.

She felt almost nun-like in her long white dress and sensible shoes. Jimmy always bought her beautiful dresses that hugged her form and flowed around her legs. These uniforms, however, were starchy and held their form. She especially hated the hat that was propped on her head.

Venturing into the town further than she had ever been, which wasn't saying much since she'd been in Aldbourne all of ten days, she came upon the building that was meant to house Colonel Sink. Entering, she was greeted with a scrawny orderly.

"How can I help you, ma'am?"

"I was told Colonel Sink wanted to see me. First Lieutenant Grace Mueller," Grace added, perhaps that meeting would be initiated more promptly if he knew who was waiting for him.

"Right this way."

"You must be Grace." Colonel Sink said as he stood up.

"And you must be Colonel Sink." Grace said, wondering if she should sit down. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding when the Colonel gestured for her to sit.

"I've heard you've done a real good job shaping up the girls."

"I've been trying my best, sir. They've shown a massive improvement just in the last week, since I arrived in Aldbourne."

"Well it's been passed on to me that you're getting the attention of some very important people. You're being stuck with one of our companies. I want you to shape up our medics, teach them things that they'll need to know about being in battle." Colonel Sink flipped through some papers in front of him. A photo of her was paperclipped to the top of the stack. So apparently she had a whole file folder to herself, she mused.

"You were stationed in North Africa?" Colonel Sink asked, looking up momentarily from the papers in front of him.

"Yes, sir. Operation Compass. Later dropped into France for Operation Biting. And then, naturally, I was sent back to Africa." Grace found herself wiping the sweat off her hands and onto her dress. She always felt more confident when she was elbow deep in a dying man's torso than when she was getting grilled by some higher up.

"Impressive. Normally we wouldn't stick an unmarried woman with a company full of young men, but you being a widower, you know how it is." Colonel Sink casually continued flipping through her folder. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress, holding tightly, as if it could keep her grounded somehow. Colonel Sink continued, "James Foss. Did he die in the war?"

Grace looked at him, puzzled. Could he not see the date in front of him? Jimmy died in 1939. She cleared her throat.

"Um, no, sir. He, uh…" Grace paused, wondering what he was expecting her to say, "He was killed, sir. Someone broke into our home."

"Well, you seem to me like a very brave woman."

"Thank you, sir."

"You will report to Captain Herbert Sobel tomorrow at 07:00 for PT. I want you to get to know the men. They'll respect you more and listen to you if they see that you're capable." He stood up, indicating that it was time for her to leave.

She took a deep, gulping breath of air the moment she set foot outside. Her hand reached for the building, grasping for the brick wall. The other hand shot up to her face, covering her mouth. For a moment she felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes, but quickly regained her composure. She felt absolutely ridiculous.

Straightening her dress, not that it could get any straighter, she walked back in the direction of the makeshift hospital. A cough came from behind her, catching her attention.

"You look like you could use some of this," the man said, holding out a small flask.

"I could, but I doubt it would look good for me to take a swig right outside of the good Colonel's office," Grace said, "But thanks."

"Is that where we are?" The man said, looking up at the building as if he were genuinely astonished that the unassuming building housed Colonel Sink. His dark features and thick eyebrows were very expressive. Or perhaps he was actually perplexed in that moment. Grace eyed him a little longer than she should've.

"Do you often wander around in a daze, drinking out of a flask?" Grace asked, wondering when would be the right moment to stop talking to this strange man.

"Do you often run out of buildings and look like you're about to start dry heaving?" If anyone else had asked her that, she may be offended. But the lighthearted way this man seemed to deal with everything, the raising of one eyebrow, and the slightest hint of a smirk somehow made it okay. It bordered on joke territory. "I'm Lewis Nixon, by the way."

"Flawless transition into the introductions, Lieutenant. I'm Grace Mueller." They shook hands as Nixon let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

"As you can see, I've always been very good at talking to woman. Just ask my wife. She loves it when I talk." He shook his head and took a pull from his flask. The mention of his wife put Grace off a bit, and suddenly she felt a desperate need to be anywhere but in that spot, talking to Lewis Nixon.

"Yes, well, how about you go practice your speech in the mirror, perhaps down a few more of those, and then you can try again," Grace said, realizing too late that her words had a bit too much of a bite to them. Nixon's facade seemed to crack slightly.

"The Colonel put you in a good mood?" Nixon asked, eyebrows perpetually being raised. Grace wanted to rip them off.

"Yes, I usually start dry heaving when I'm happy. If you'd excuse me, I have to get back to work…" Grace trailed off, looking in the general direction of the nurse's tent.

"Oh, yeah, work. Should probably do some of that myself."

Grace nodded politely, or as politely as a nod could be, and left Lewis Nixon standing in the street, nursing his flask. The sound of her heels clacking on the street and the rumble of blood rushing to her head were the only sounds she heard. Aldbourne had been nothing but the bearer of bad news for her. She wanted nothing more than to do her job. No more jumps. No more combat. But tomorrow, she would be training with Captain Sobel. At least the impish little man who had been in earlier would be there as well, George. She knew his type, he was just like Jimmy.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mmm, don't you just love vaguely gray slop for breakfast?" Nixon said as him and Dick went through the food line, heaps of what looked to be some sort of cat puke plopping gracefully onto their plates with a squelching sound.

"Just put a little salt on it." Dick said absentmindedly as he zoned in on the only open table. The two sat down like clockwork, Nixon following him around like his shadow. His very sarcastic, alcoholic shadow. "No PT today?"

"No. I have some important intelligence to go over," Nixon said, smiling devilishly, "Basically they made me S-2 because I'm not really good at the running and jumping through hoops thing."

"Well, we have a nurse training with us today." Dick smiled knowingly and continued eating.

"A nurse? God dammit."

"Sure you don't wanna come to PT now? I heard she's going to be training the medics. Guess she's already got a few months in Africa under her belt, and a jump into France." Nixon let out a whistle at that.

"Wouldn't be the nurse I ran into outside HQ would it?"

Dick just shrugged and continued eating. Would it have been that girl? Nixon shook his head. Nobody would start dry heaving because they have to be stuck with Easy company. Actually, second though, they probably would.

"What's the word, Harry?" Nixon asked as Harry set his tray down beside Dick's.

"Field exercise scheduled for this afternoon that Sobel's probably gonna fuck up, but other than that?" Harry shrugged and dug into his mush.

"It should go well. It's just a basic ambush." Dick said, ever the optimist. Nixon couldn't help but snort.

"Ambushes and jumpy captains don't usually go together very well. Especially when that certain captain has a whole platoon under his command."

"We'll just have to make do with what we're given, Nix," Dick said, never giving into Nixon's negativity. Even if that negativity sometimes held an ounce or two of truth.

"If he's jumpy now, you just gotta wonder what's going to happen when Krauts are shooting live rounds at him." Harry sighed.

"Well if we're going to discuss this I think would should keep it amongst ourselves. No need to put ideas into the men's heads."

"Dick, if we're thinking it, what do you think they're thinking? They're the ones who are going to get killed."

"Like I said, we're just going to have to make do. I'll see you at PT, Welsh." Dick got up, dumping his tray in a wash bin and promptly exiting the mess hall.

"That nurse, she's a firecracker," Dick heard Nix say to Harry as he left. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He knew Harry and Nix were speaking the truth, but sometimes it wasn't the right thing to focus on. He was a firm believer that people would get what was coming to them, one way or another, and he knew in his gut that Sobel would never be allowed to lead men in combat.

Dick arrived at the training area fifteen minutes before PT was scheduled. He saw young woman in PT gear leaning against a stone wall, smoking and looking off into the distance. She seemed weary, her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back from her face and tightly twisted into a bun. He walked over to introduce himself.

"You must be Lieutenant Winters," She said before he had a chance to speak. She smiled cheekily, wisps of smoke exhaling from her nose.

"What gave me away?" He cocked his head.

"A certain alcoholic may have made mention of a red headed eskimo straight out of Pennsylvania. Grace Mueller," she held out her hand. He shook it, taking note of her firm grip. He looked down, seeing her well worn boots.

"You can just call me Dick. So you've met Lew?"

"I wouldn't say 'met'. Meetings are usually pleasant." If it weren't for the intonation in her voice, he would've thought she were serious. She would be surprised if she knew how similar she was to Nixon.

"He isn't always the easiest to get along with."

"And yet you two seem to be very close? You don't come off as the alcoholic, womanizing type. You seem to me like a humble farm kid while he's more of like those rich kids who can't seem to find their way." Dick let out a small laugh.

"You've got us to a T. We met on the first day of OCS. Inseparable ever since."

"Opposites attract, right?" She laughed, quirking an eyebrow at the blush she saw creeping up Dick's neck.

"Something like that," Dick said, looking down at the grass beneath his boots. Looking over his shoulder, Grace could see Sobel arriving in a jeep. She snuffed out her cigarette and began to walk over.

"Easy Company!" Sobel yelled, and everyone ran over to stand in a school circle. "As you are aware we have a lady in our presence." Sobel spit out the words like they were poison.

Everyone's heads turned to look at Grace and she couldn't help but feel heat spring up on her cheeks. She brushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear, trying to find something to do with her hands instead of standing there awkwardly. She made eye contact with Luz, who just winked and turned to look back at Sobel.

"She's training our medics, not jumping with us, so don't worry." Grace did all she could to keep a snort from escaping. She had more combat experience and jumps than this fool. "Treat her like any of the other men in Easy. We have a five mile run to do, followed by running the obstacle course. Move out!"

Everyone fell into position, and Grace took up a spot beside Dick. The men were singing but she didn't know any of the words, so she just focused on the sounds of boots rhythmically hitting stone.

She checked out from reality, retreating inside her own head. Sobel's yelling, insults, and occasional chanting didn't even register. She was back in Chicago.

* * *

Grace sat at the kitchen table, filling out the final forms for the new house they just purchased in New York. She could hear Jimmy coming down the stairs.

"You know I'm going to miss you!" Jimmy said as he entered the kitchen. He placed a kiss on her head.

"It's only for the weekend. You know how father always wants me to be at these parties. Says I need to keep up my image or something,"

"But Toronto is so far away," Jimmy lamented as he began looking through the cupboards.

"Mmm, yes, but a company merger is huge. You are supposed to come, you know." Grace looked up from the documents, smiling at Jimmy.

"Aw, Grace, don't give me that. I got a meeting in Cicero on Saturday that I can't miss."

"Yeah, I know. But you can't get mad at me for going to Toronto! I haven't been home in ages. Plus Katy will be fine with you, right? Mary said she'd watch her if you needed."

"I'm not letting our neighbours look after our daughter. She'll come home speaking German." Jimmy laughed, lighting up the burner on the stove and putting a pot of water on. "Katy's gonna miss you, too."

"It's my first time away since she was born. I think I deserve some time off."

"Of course you do. Just don't go dancing with any fellows. Only if they're not as good looking as me." Jimmy laughed again, his eyes crinkling. "Plus, you're father may have invited me but he didn't want me to go."

"Oh, let's not start this again." Grace huffed, turning back to her papers. "The train leaves in the morning at eleven."

"You know he wanted you to marry that doctor guy. What's his name again? Charles?"

"Nigel. And we only dated for a couple months. And that was when I was seventeen"

"Yeah, well, you're father never shut up about him the last time we were in Toronto. You'd think he was the second coming of Christ or something, the way he went on. I get it, he's a doctor." Grace got up and stood behind Jimmy, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Just because you're a florist doesn't mean you're not as good as a doctor." Grace laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "What kind of doctor can keep a house full of perfect arrangements?"

"That's all you got? He's not a doctor but those flowers are pretty, so he's got that going for him."

"I married you. I had your child. I didn't marry your job. Get it through your head, Jimmy, if I wanted a doctor I would've married one," Grace sighed, watching Jimmy chop vegetables. The water started boiling so she went to grab the pasta from the cupboard.

"It's that easy, is it?"

"It is when your father owns most of the distilleries in Canada. They didn't want to date me for my personality, you know." Jimmy laughed at that, putting the knife down and grabbing her by the waist.

"You would've snapped them like twigs," Jimmy kissed her, grinning into her mouth.

* * *

"Nurse Mueller!" Sobel's barking voice made her snap her head up. "How do you expect to make it through the war if you can't even run five miles! Step it up! You're slipping!"

"Sir!" Grace yelled, and Sobel went on to pick on someone else. She had no idea how long they had been running, but her lungs were starting to burn. Dick shot her a look, lips turned up at the corner. He was barely even breathing hard. They came over a small hill and the town came into view.

"Hi-ho, Silver!" Sobel yelled and led them on a final sprint into the village.

They stopped at the town square and it took everything she had not to collapse right then and there. She was gasping for breath.

"Pre-run cigarette catching up to you?" Dick asked, smirking.

"They're always a good idea, Dick." Nix came from behind them, his perpetually raised eyebrow waggling.

"We're running the obstacle course in ten minutes. Grab some water." Sobel yelled before marching off.

"I regret nothing," Grace wheezed, doubled over.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Edith said as Grace entered the tent.

"Five mile runs and obstacle courses tend to do that to a girl," Grace laughed, tossing her hair up into a quick bun. She had skipped lunch so she could run back to her billet and shower.

"Any cute guys?" Edith asked. Grace snorted, of course. In a sharp contrast to Faye, Edith was the kind of girl who was looking to settle down with an American officer and have beautiful little babies.

"You tend not to notice men when you're dying of a collapsed lung. Plus, they were all sweaty and disgusting. Quite a difference from their OD's, don't you think?"

"I heard there's going to a be a small party tonight at the pub. care to join us? You can compare their PT gear to their uniforms." Edith smirked, looking up from the paperwork she was currently halfassing.

"Edith."

"You've never come out with us once!"

"That's because I'm your superior."

"Do you even drink?" Grace sighed. They were always bugging her, trying to get her to go out. Put on some lipstick. Put on a dress. Here, we managed to scrounge up some stockings.

"As much as any other woman."

"You smoke as much as any man. Just come out!" Edith begged, and Faye appeared from behind a cloth flap.

"Are you coming out with us tonight?" Faye asked.

"Oh, Jesus. Not you, too."

"It's Friday! We all have weekend passes." Faye smiled, cheeks turning a tinge of pink.

"You never go out either, Faye. Does a certain George Luz have anything to do with this?"

"Well, he did say he'd buy me a drink or two…" Edith let out a laugh at this, causing the pink on Faye's cheeks to cover her entire face and creep down her neck.

"I'll go," Grace smirked, hoping to see Luz in action. She always did enjoy making Faye blush, and this way she could just sit back and enjoy the show.

"Really?" Edith asked, her eyebrows shooting up so high they almost hit her hairline. Grace nodded.

"Can we do your hair?"

"Girls, I'm perfectly capable of doing my own hair. I used to go to parties all the time, I'll have you know."

The girls scoffed and shook their heads. Grace never took weekend passes and she never drank. On weekends she preferred quiet walks and the company of a good book. She knew from experience how valuable alone time and peace and quiet could be once you've been at the front for weeks on end.

She had a feeling that the peaceful English countryside wasn't in her near future. Field hospitals and the sound of artillery would soon replace the brick buildings and winding rivers of England.

* * *

"Jimmy, I'll be fine." Grace said into the telephone, shaking her head. She was brushing her hair again. That one piece just didn't want to stay in place.

"If you need anything, just call me, okay? I can drop everything in a moment's notice."

"James. I'm going to a party, not a warzone."

"I'm just trying to make sure you're safe!" Jimmy sighed loudly.

"I'm fine, I'll probably be with my brother all night. I have to go, okay" Someone was knocking on her door. Probably her sister, June.

"Okay. You can call me after the party, okay? Even if you get in after midnight. Love you."

"Love you, too, Jimmy." Grace hung up and took a deep breath before answering the door.

"Why aren't you coming downstairs? Father's wondering where you are." June said, winking and taking a sip from her drink. Grace scoffed.

"I'm married! Why does he keep finding men to introduce to me!" She grabbed the drink out of June's hand and took a deep drink.

"James might be a good guy but he ain't rich." June shrugged, and the two girls headed down the winding staircase.

"Grace!" She heard her father's booming voice from across the hall. She walked over and hugged him, breathing in the scent of tobacco. "Grace, this is Louis Goldberg. He's just been made a partner at one of the law firms in town."

"Grace Foss," Grace said, holding out her hand to Louis. He shook it daintily before pulling it up to his face and kissing it. She groaned inwardly.

"Well, Grace, you certainly look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you, Louis. Now if you'll excuse me I need to find myself a drink…"

"I can get that for you." Louis promptly walked away in the direction of the bar.

"Father…"

"He's a good man! Look, he's even getting a drink for you." Grace looked up incredulously at her father.

"He didn't even ask me what I wanted to drink. I'd bet he's coming back with a white wine. I wanted whiskey."

"Everybody knows a lady drinks something light and airy… you can't be seen with a man's drink in your hand. It's not proper."

"I think married women can be exempt from your silly little rules. I'm going to go find mother."

"I believe she is out on the patio, dear." Her father said, before turning and talking to someone else. Grace could've smacked him.

She wandered through the crowd, keeping an eye on Louis and trying to stay out of his sights. Approaching the bar she ordered a scotch and sipped at it, reveling in the warmth spreading through her chest. She knew coming back to Toronto would be a mistake.

* * *

"Grace! Hurry up, everyone's already at the pub." Edith knocked on the door.

"Okay, okay, just a second."

Grace looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't dolled herself up in what felt like ages. After the loss of her family she joined the Nursing Corps, hoping to postpone her grieving. The past years of her life had been devoted totally to the war effort. She took a deep breath and opened the door, awkwardly pulling the hemlines of her dress.

"Lieutenant! You're a babe!" Edith whistled. Faye just smiled like a proud mother.

"Alright, girls, let's get this over with."

"Over with? The night's just beginning, Grace."

The three girls walked arm-in-arm down the stone streets towards the pub. Grace suspected Edith and Faye had a few drinks already, as their giggled were bouncing off the brick walls and filling the night air.

"Which one's George, again?" Edith asked, slurring slightly.

"The short one with puppy eyes," Faye said, her blush apparent even in the dark.

"Hmmm, yeah. Okay. Don't know him." Faye rolled her eyes.

"Who do you have waiting to buy you drinks, Edith?" Grace asked.

"The entire pub, probably," Faye joked. "What about you, Grace?"

"I have my own money, and hopefully a front row seat to the George Luz and Faye McDonald show." Grace smirked as they approached the pub. "After you, ladies."

She opened the door and the sounds of the pub filtered out into the street, along with the warm, smoky air. Faye was immediately spotted by George who grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away to dance. Edith chatted up every man she saw, so clearly, Grace's only option was to go to the bar.

"Rye, straight up, please." She said to the bartender, holding out a handful of foreign looking coins. He picked out the correct amount and gave her a smile.

She turned to watch George turning Faye this way and that on the dancefloor. She seemed absolutely infatuated and terrified at the same time. Grace let out a small laugh and sipped at her drink.

"Now what's a girl like you doing in a pub like this?" A voice came from over her shoulder, and she turned to see Lewis Nixon ordering a drink.

"Are your lines always so smooth?"

"They'll get even worse as the night progresses."

"Hmm." Grace took another drink. She felt that familiar lightheadedness and knew she wasn't going to be able to resist ordering another drink. And maybe another.

"I'm surprised you're not out there dancing."

"Why? Do I come across as the type?"  
"Something tells me you're light on your feet." Nixon smirked, handing her another drink when he saw hers was empty.

"Is this what you do? Hand girls drinks until they agree to dance with you?" Grace asked right before taking a swig from her glass.

"You seem to be falling for my trap, anyhow."

"Well, I'm not going to dance with you. I'm going to get belligerently drunk, stumble home, and fall face first on my bed."

"How many drinks is belligerent to you? I'd like to walk you home and I was wondering when to fit you into my schedule."

"Give me an hour." Grace said, before heading over to the table Edith was sitting at.

"Gracie!" Edith yelled from her perch atop some man's lap.

"So that's your name. You did PT with us the other day," a man with an underbite and strange accent held out his hand, "You can just call me Gonorrhea."

"So what happens on furlough doesn't stay on furlough, eh? Grace Mueller." She shook his hand and he cackled loudly.

"Just call him Bill, Jesus. I'm Don Malarkey, that one's Buck Compton," Malarkey said, pointing at the man Edith was sitting on, "And that's Skip Muck."

"So you and Nix got a thing?" Skip asked.

"If the definition of 'thing' is me avoiding him then yes, we have a thing."

"Then he wouldn't mind me asking you to dance?" Malarkey asked. Grace smiled and downed her drink.

"Lead the way."

Don grabbed her by the hand and led her out to the dancefloor. They passed the table Nixon was sitting at, and Grace gave him a wink. He just shook his head and grinned into his drink.

After an hour of dancing and countless beers over a poker game, Grace stumbled outside and lit a cigarette. She took a deep breath and leaned against the brick wall, heading lolling back and looking up at a spinning sky.

"You've had a busy night," Lewis said, coming out of the pub just moments after her.

"You keeping track of me? Can't get any alone time around here." Grace closed her eyes and took a drag from her cigarette.

"You may not owe me a dance, but you did agree to let me walk you home. And, well, it's about two hours later than you said it would be."

"I drank a lot more than I thought I would," Grace giggled, pushing herself off the brick wall and almost falling on her face in the process. Nixon grabbed her by the waist and held her upright.

"Jesus, Grace. Where's your billet?"

"I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Lewis asked, exhaling a breathy laugh. Just his luck.

"I mean I dunno. That's what I mean. Somewhere over there, in a brick house." Grace waved in the direction of what seemed to be most of the town. Lewis sighed.

"Come on then, I'll find you a bed." Nixon tightened his grip on her waist. At least she could still walk. As he neared his billet he saw Dick standing outside.

"What are you doing up this late?" Nixon asked, as if he didn't happen to be hauling around a drunk woman.

"I can think of a better question to ask." Dick said, gesturing at Grace.

"Well, for once I wasn't the drunkest person at the pub. She didn't know how to get back to her billet and I wasn't about to leave her stranded outside a pub full of countless women-deprived soldiers, was I?" Dick sighed.

"Bring her upstairs, then. I have some aspirin and we can get her some water."

"You're a peach, Dick."


	4. Chapter 4

Grace and Jimmy had gone to Florida for their honeymoon in 1938. The sun soaked streets of Tampa greeted them, along with cheap cigars and booze. Jimmy always had a cigar in his mouth and a drink in his hand.

A wad of her father's cash in her pocket, Grace had bought a beautiful floral dress that she wished she could wear everyday. Jimmy loved how she looked in it, how the fabric hugged the curves of her waist and the light fabric flowed daintily around her legs. She caught him looking more than once and he would respond with nothing more than a wink and a cheeky smile.

They would take walks down the river, watching people paddling in silence. Their hands were practically glued together that week, palms sweaty and warm. She didn't care that Jimmy refused to wear nothing but his three piece suits, even if it was too hot for it. His style reminded her of Chicago, the city where they had met.

She could still remember waking up in the sweltering heat, the windows wide open and curtains fluttering. Jimmy was always an early riser and even now, on vacation, she would be greeted with the smell of bacon and eggs.

"Let me sleep, Jimmy," She'd say when he'd gently shake her shoulder.

"Grace. Come on."

"I wanna sleep in, Jimmy. Stop."

"Stop calling me Jimmy, Jesus."

"What?" Grace willed her eyes to open, but they were dry. Her mouth was dry, too.

"Grace! Jesus!" Jimmy rolled her over and smacked her on the cheek a few times.

"The fuck is your problem?" Grace sat up, pushing him away from her, only to be greeted with Lewis Nixon's face. "Lewis?"

"Hey, you got my name right. By the way, it's almost noon." He grinned, turning away to go rustle through a footlocker. "Who's Jimmy?"

"Oh, um. Nobody. What… what happened last night?"

Nixon took one look at her face and laugh uproariously. He bent down and picked a bottle of whiskey up out of the footlocker, slamming the lid so hard it made Grace wince.

"You got a little tipsy. You can thank me later for actually being a good guy… it's not too often I am. Whiskey or water?" Nixon asked, holding up a bottle of whiskey while also gesturing to a canteen of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.

"Thanks," she said, quickly downing a handful of pills and draining the canteen.

"Woah, what do you think you're doing?" Nixon asked when she flopped back down on the bed and covered her face with blankets.

"Go away." She said, her voice muffled.

"I can't just leave you in my bed all day."

"Yes, you can."

"Well… alright." Nixon stood there, looking at her for a few moments. She didn't move at all and soon her breathing evened out and she was asleep. He sighed, running a hand through his too long hair, and turned to open the door. "You sure you want to stay?"

He shook his head, laughing, when she didn't reply. He left the room and thankfully nobody was in the house, or else he'd have to explain who he was talking to and why there was a nurse in his bed, and what's the point of wearing his wedding ring?

"Lew!" Dick's voice came from down the road, the moment Nixon stepped outside.

"Yeah?" Nixon asked, as Dick jogged over.

"How's Grace?"

"Oh, you know, just passed out in my bed." Nixon shrugged and kept walking.

"That's probably a bad idea." Dick was always pointing out obvious things.

"Yes, thank you, Dick. I'm quite aware."

"You don't seem too worried. I'll deal with her, okay? I know you have a few meetings today." Nixon knew he could always count on Dick to keep a level head. Because, really, right now it was too early in the morning for Nixon to be caring about any sort of punishment that may result from his current arrangement with Grace.

"If you could do me one more favour, she kept saying 'Jimmy' in her sleep. Called me that about four or five times before she saw my beautiful mug. Maybe you could find out who this Jimmy guy is."

"You know, it's probably a boyfriend or something, Lew. Heck, you're married! Why do you want to know?" There Dick went, pointing out obvious things again. Nixon always loved the way Dick felt the need to remind him that he has a wife.

"Just help me out here, okay?"

* * *

"It was a disaster, Jimmy!" Grace spoke into the phone softly, sitting at her make-up table and pulling out her hair pins.

"He try and set you up again?" Jimmy's voice was crackly with sleep.

"Of course. Some lawyer with a bald spot and teeth better suited for a rat. And then I got in trouble for drinking whiskey. My family owns distilleries!" Jimmy's soft laughter came out over the line. "What's so funny?"

"Honey, you're overreacting. About the alcohol. You should be more upset about Rat-faced McBaldspot than the drinks."

"I'm sorry, James. How was your night? How'd the meeting go?"

"Katy stayed at Frank's house. You know, the Italian guy with the place on the northside? Yeah. She had a little play-date with his kids. So she's speaking Italian now instead of German."

"And the meeting?"

"I'm getting to it! I'm heading to New York first chance I get. After you get home, of course."

"So that's good news then?"

"I struck a pretty big deal. Can't say it over the phone. I'll tell you when you're home."

"Can't say it over the phone?" If Grace wasn't interested in the conversation before, she was now. She stopped brushing her hair and put the brush down on the table.

"There's just talk about the feds getting involved in town here. It's fine. It has nothing to do with me."

"You said this business was safe. You said it was going to be fine. Now you think someone's listening to our conversations? Who is this Frank guy?" Grace's voice was echoing off the walls of the house.

"Grace, calm down honey. It has nothing to do with me. I'm just taking precautions. Listen, I gotta go. I'll see you in a couple days, okay? Love you."

"I love you, too, Jimmy." Grace said, but the line had already gone dead. She hung the phone up and looked at herself in the mirror, make-up smudged and hair half brushed.

* * *

"Grace?" Dick's voice cut through her unconscious state. She opened her eyes to see a flash of red hair and pale face.

"Hello." Dick just laughed.

"Get up, Grace. There's a huge briefing right now that I managed to sneak out of. We should be able to get you out of here and to your billet without being spotted." Dick grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up into a seated position. "Hope you're decent under there."

"Me too," Grace laughed, getting out of bed. She was wearing what seemed to be a pair of Lew's pants with the belt cinched up to the smallest size, and her dress pulled up as a makeshift shirt. Lovely.

"I had one heck of a time trying to wake you." Dick was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. One eyebrow was raised, hopefully in a cheeky fashion. Grace felt like she never wanted to be at the receiving end of Dick's anger.

"Well, I had one 'heck' of a time last night. Your boys are fun," Grace sighed, picking her things up off the floor, "Maybe too fun. I'll have to stay away from the cards."

"I don't know who Jimmy is but I'm sure you're going to have to give him a ring this morning,"

"What?" Grace stopped dead in her tracks, staring up at Dick with worried eyes.

"You kept saying his name in your sleep. He must've left quite the impression," Dick said casually, ushering her out the door. She had a feeling this was how he treated Lewis after a night of heavy drinking.

"Um, no. I didn't meet him last night. I met him in 1937."

"Seven years ago? Ok, I'll bite. Who's Jimmy?" Dick smirked, looking down at her. They walked along the cobblestone roads through town, looking like quite the pair. Grace didn't have a chance to look in the mirror but a quick feel told her that it was sticking straight up.

"Husband," Grace paused, sighing deeply, "Ex-husband, I guess. Till death do us part? I remember that being part of the vows."

Dick merely hummed quietly, nodding his head. He looked at her, not saying a word. Somehow, this pushed her to continue talking. Grace felt like she knew now why Lew was always saying that Dick knew everything. Because he could get you to tell him everything.

"He was into some bad business. Some men… they… well they wanted something from Jimmy. I don't know what, and I don't think I'll ever know. But I do know that they took the two people that meant the most to me."

* * *

Nixon was walking to some building somewhere. Who cares anymore? They all look the same in this country. He sighed and ran his hands through his already messy hair before reaching into his front pocket and digging for a cigarette.

"Need a light?" Harry's voice came from behind him.

"Yeah, sure, Welsh."

"What's new?" Harry asked as he lit the cigarette. Nixon took a few puffs, looking off into the town square.

"Oh, you know. Life. Meetings. Maps."

"Yeah, yeah, it's not that stuff I'm asking about."

"I'm not sure what else I could tell you, Welshy," Nixon laughed, smoking billowing out of his nose.

"Couple of the guys, well, they're saying they saw you leaving the pub last night."

"Everyone's gotta leave sometime. Don't live there."

"No, Nix. With a dame!"

"Oh, come on, Harry! I'm married! So are you, you should know where I'm coming from!"

"Nix, I don't mean any offense here…"

"Offense is going to be taken."

"I don't mean any offense here! But, I think your definition of marriage is a lot looser than mine. I mean, I don't even know what your wife's name is!"

"Good! I wish I didn't either!" Nix said cheekily, puffing on the last bits of his cigarette.

"See what I mean! I babble on about Kitty all the time! I would never even make that joke about her."

"How is Kitty doing lately?"

"Just fine. She's been doing volunteer work with the schools, collecting tin cans and that kind of stuff for the war effort," Harry said, smiling contently before hitting Nix in the shoulder, "Don't distract me!"

"Ok, ok, fine," Lewis said, gesturing for Harry to lean in closer and lowering his voice, "You can't let on to anyone, but it was Grace."

"Grace!" Harry practically yelled before whispering, "You took Grace home?"

"Not like that!" Nixon was almost doubled over in laughter at the look on Harry's face. His eyebrows were pretty much in his hairline.

"How else could it be?"

"She got pretty loosened up last night. Found her outside, pretty much falling all over herself. She passed out leaning against my shoulder and I didn't know where her billet was."

"Didn't think to ask one of her friends? That's a lame excuse, Nix!" Harry chortled, slapping him on the back before turning down an alley.

"The lamest excuses are the true ones, Welsh," Nixon laughed, calling after his retreating friend.

He shook his head, looking at Harry walking down the alley with too much bounce in his step. Nixon always thought that he looked like a happy little gap-toothed imp. Smiling at the thought, he lit up another cigarette before making his way to HQ


End file.
